


Lifestyle Porn

by MudaMuda



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1950s, Crossdressing, Domestic Violence, Exhibitionism, Implied/Referenced Cheating, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 15:45:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14139252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MudaMuda/pseuds/MudaMuda
Summary: 1950s Suburbia AU. Alfred figures a good old-fashioned spanking will fix whatever his wallet can't, and finds out the hard way his wife is more stubborn than he is.





	Lifestyle Porn

**Author's Note:**

> I've been on a kick lately writing cheerfully threatening Alfred. I don't know when I'll get it all out of my system.
> 
> Also, the ‘wife’ shit is intentional, but not for the reason you’re probably thinking (eg. sissification; Kiku is the adorable sub). I’m working on expanding this fic into an alternate-1950s human AU, where gender roles are a central part of the plot.

His wife looked good in his dark, designer dress and pointed heels. 

Delicate, almost; the black in severe contrast with his pale skin. 

Alfred drew his eyes over Kiku’s dainty neck, and little waist, and his slender legs covered in sheer nylon.

He looked  _ too  _ good to go to just church. Showing him off at church in such an expensive getup would be a waste. With some black satin elbow gloves and a new strand of pearls dangling over his clavicle, he’d be set for a night at a nice Upper East Side restaurant, where Alfred would order champagne and Kiku would accept a glass just to wet his lips.

Normally, Alfred would be excited at the thought of taking him out. Now, he was just angry.

He unfolded his newspaper with a crackle, then refolded it, with the business section on top. 

“Don’t fuss with the cleaning,” he drawled at Kiku, who was over by the sink, drying some dishes. “We have a maid for that.” And then, when Kiku didn’t answer, “I want to go out. Get drinks.”

Yeah. Church was definitely out. 

“It’s not even noon yet,” said Kiku. “Drinking before noon is kind of crass.”

“You know what else is kind of  _ crass  _ to do before noon?” muttered Alfred under his breath.

Kiku hadn’t heard him, so he got no response.

“Whatever happened to respecting your husband?” asked Alfred, loud enough to be heard, this time. He couldn’t stop the hardness slipping into his voice.

Kiku turned his head marginally, indicating he had heard.

“What, dear?”

Alfred finished his coffee, holding out the cup out for Kiku to pour him more. 

“Why did you leave the back door unlocked?”

“I must have forgotten.”

“You locked it before I left yesterday. Why are you lying to me?”

“I saw a friend,” said Kiku, without hesitation.

“Who’s this friend, that they need to be let in the back door?”

Kiku turned back around to replace the coffee pot on the counter. Alfred craned his neck to look at him, even though he knew Kiku couldn’t see him doing it. 

“Should I be worried, sweetheart?” he asked. 

“About what?”

“Is someone screwing you when I’m not home?”

Kiku didn’t flinch. He left the counter and went over to collect the plates from the table.

As he walked past, Alfred caught him by the waist and pulled him onto his lap. Kiku landed awkwardly, slumped against his chest. 

“Sit down,” said Alfred. “I’m talking to you.”

Kiku sat up straighter.

“You know what you did wrong,” said Alfred. “Stop avoiding it.”

“I’m sorry,” Kiku offered. He said it softly, in a placating tone that would have fooled anyone who wasn’t Alfred. 

“I’m sure you are,” said Alfred, returning his fake apology with an equally fake smile. “But that doesn't mean I can just let this go.”

Kiku watched him, flicking his eyes over his face, waiting for him to make his point. 

“I don’t like coming home, knowing my wife has been alone with another man,” said Alfred. “I don't ask that much of you. Do I, Kiku?”

“No.”

Alfred patted him on the lower back,  _ tap-tap-tapping  _ in thought. “You’re asking for some  _ real _ punishment. I think this calls for a spanking.”

If it did, it would the first time he’d properly spank Kiku. Kiku had never given him a reason to put him over his lap. Even now, he didn’t seem to be taking it well that Alfred intended to spank him. 

Kiku was giving him his serious face, that cool narrowing of his eyes that meant he was displeased, but Alfred didn’t care. 

“Over my lap,” he said.

Kiku didn’t respond immediately, and Alfred had to give him a push of encouragement. Or rather, a pinch. One on the bottom, hard enough that Kiku frowned at him. 

“Really, Alfred,” he said.

“Yeah,  _ really. _ ”

“I don’t understand what this is meant to accomplish,” said Kiku.

“I’m going to make you sorry.”

“How?”

“By spanking you to tears. Does that answer your question?” 

“Ah. You want a reaction.”

He said it so silkily. Like he was  _ considering  _ getting upset for Alfred’s sake.

“I don’t know what you’re up to, but this isn’t funny,” said Alfred. “Take it seriously.”

“Fine,” said Kiku, with an irritated kind of expression. 

“You don’t think you deserve it?” asked Alfred. 

“I don’t,” said Kiku. 

Alfred slid off his belt, making it snap through the loops. He folded it in half, to make a strap. 

“You know you deserve it, you just don't want it.” 

“I’m sorry,” said Kiku again.

“Should’ve thought of that before you screwed around,” said Alfred. He let his free hand drop lower, brushing his palm over Kiku’s bottom, feeling the shape under the skirt. 

“Lay over my lap,” he said. “This is the last time I’m asking.”

When Kiku did, Alfred hooked his thumb under the hem of his skirt, turning it up slowly. He paused to linger his attention on the stockings Kiku was wearing, and the lace on the edge of the white panties. It was all proper and simple. Kiku never dressed to tease him, but it turned Alfred on all the same. Plain unmentionables were good because they didn’t distract from the wearer, who was already too pretty to bother wearing something racy. 

He took down the panties and stockings, rolling both to Kiku’s knees, leaving him bare in his most delicate areas.

Alfred slapped his bottom gently, with the flat of his hand, giving him a little preparation. Just a few slaps, to get the blood flowing and leave the area a healthy pink. 

A belt to unprepared skin would hurt a lot, and he only wanted Kiku to be left teary-eyed, not in agony.

Kiku shifted his hips, adjusting his position. His groin pressed against Alfred’s thigh. Under the dress, Alfred could feel the shape of his cock— the only indication that his ‘wife’ wasn’t really a wife.

Alfred kept him in place, holding Kiku’s arm behind his back while he went to work. Kiku was little, and could easily be held down, if it came to that. Alfred doubted it. Kiku was too dignified to fight when he knew it would be useless. Alfred mostly held him so he wouldn’t squirm out of position when the spanking got heated.

He traced the folded belt over his bottom. The cool leather of the belt was making Kiku’s flesh rise. 

Alfred didn’t think he would need to use his full strength to hit him, just firmly snap the belt against his rear until Kiku’s face was streaked with tears. Kiku was behaved enough that he could show some mercy. But just the same, he knew Kiku would take it just as obediently if he used his full strength. 

He didn't really want to see Kiku begging anyway. There was something so dignified about Kiku’s personality. Alfred could never live with himself if he shattered that beautifully invincible  _ something _ in Kiku that couldn't be broken; was resilient to force. 

Kiku was obedient because he chose to be. A hard glare, a firm hand, a demanding tone were just reinforcement. 

But right now, Alfred was really wanting to make him howl.

He brought the belt down hard, squarely across Kiku’s rear with a snap that echoed throughout the kitchen. Kiku’s whole body tightened. 

The way he was positioned on his lap allowed Alfred to feel every little movement. He gave him another hard strike with the belt, and Kiku tensed and shifted, pressing his knees together. 

“I know that‘s painful, sweetheart,” said Alfred. “You can’t hide it. You’ve always been stubborn, though. I think it’s time you changed that attitude.”

“If you want to show off your strength, I’ll oblige you. Nothing more,” said Kiku. 

“Obliging? You’re barely holding on. You tense right up when I give you a good, strong one. I don’t know why you’re trying to be tough when you know how this is going to end.”

Kiku half-turned, in a jerky movement, like he wanted to face Alfred. 

“For goodness’ sake, speak to me if you’re angry. This is childish.”

“Really?” asked Alfred, putting slack in the belt, letting it dangle from his hand, unfolded. “Is  _ this _ childish to you?”

He hit Kiku again, watching the flesh give under the leather as he carved a hot, red stripe into his ass. Kiku jerked his hips, and fisted the cloth of Alfred’s trousers with his free hand. 

“That got a wiggle. I think you’ll do a lot more than oblige, darling,” said Alfred, adrenaline flooding into him at the sight of Kiku squirming in pain. “Tell you what, you’ll be feeling a lot more sorry after I’m done with you.”

The tip of the belt against Kiku’s skin was much more painful, and Alfred could see the sting in Kiku’s quivering legs, in his head bowed in stubborn concentration, fingertips digging into the side of his trouser leg as the leather licked his bare ass.

He spanked him again, and again, alternating the strikes between gentle and hard, until Kiku started to kick his legs. Alfred’s “gentle” wasn’t exactly so, and every hit had Kiku pressing his knees together, crossing and uncrossing his ankles. He hadn’t made a sound, yet, though Alfred could feel frustration coming off him in bursts. He was staying tense, pushing back against Alfred’s lap with each strike. Holding him down was becoming essential to keeping him from moving off his lap. 

“Stop fighting,” demanded Alfred. “We’ll be here all day unless I see some tears.”

“I won’t cry from this,” panted Kiku. 

“You’re waiting for me to get tired out,” said Alfred. “You think you’re really clever.”

”What a waste of time,” said Kiku, thinly. His teeth were clenched. Alfred could hear the restrained noises stuck in his throat. His ass burned cherry red all over, smarting and hot to touch, and he hadn’t even whimpered. 

At least, not until Alfred hit him with the buckle. That got a satisfying yelp out of Kiku. 

Alfred’s advantage in strength became even more useful then, as Kiku jerked, thrashed, and tried to move away, but couldn’t escape, lying prone with his arm trapped.

“Stay still,” ordered Alfred, over Kiku’s soft, pitiful moan that rose in time with the welt on his ass. 

Once Kiku settled down again, Alfred released his grip on his wrist and rubbed the sting out of his bottom. Kiku tensed as Alfred’s hand passed over the place where the buckle had flayed the skin. 

“That was a warning, sweetheart,” said Alfred. And then, just to be mean, “You’re getting another two.”  

Because Kiku anticipated it, the next sounds he made weren’t as loud as the first. But there was something about Kiku not being able to silently grit his teeth through the pain that satisfied Alfred enough to stop the punishment. Tears or no, he had gotten a reaction. Maybe that was all he had really wanted. 

He gave Kiku two additional strikes with the leather, over the three buckle welts, before turning him loose. 

Kiku stood unsteadily, gingerly holding the back of his skirt up so it wouldn’t brush his abused rear.

The skin from his bottom to the backs of his thighs was bruised, cut up, and glowing red. 

There. He had gotten what he deserved. Kiku had done well, and Alfred felt a sense of pride that he’d taken it with dignity, like a wife should.

Kiku, wearing marks made by Alfred’s own hand, along with designer clothes Alfred had bought him… Seeing them together felt reassuring somehow. Things were where they were supposed to be. The status quo had been maintained. 

And yet, gnawing worry dampened his pride. 

Alfred wasn’t satisfied. He wanted Kiku to hang his head and apologize and promise to never disrespect him again. Tears would just sweeten the deal.

Kiku was in pain, and irritated, but he wasn’t ashamed. He wasn’t even sorry. The deprecating, self-important glance he threw at Alfred over his shoulder proved it.

Kiku bent over to pull up his panties, flashing the whole, stark red expanse of his bottom, like he was chastising Alfred for daring to punish him.

He coldly snapped the elastic into place at his hip, and Alfred’s temper surged.

He grabbed Kiku’s arm.

“We’re not done.”

He shifted his grasp to Kiku’s wrist, and led him out of the house. Kiku stumbled after him.

The front door banged the wall as Alfred dragged him outside, onto the porch. The sun was climbing into the middle of the sky, fading the little pink flamingos dotted across their next door neighbor’s lawn. The block was quiet now, just silent sidewalks, and automobiles resting in driveways. 

One of Alfred’s hands went around Kiku’s waist, and the other under his skirt, making Kiku gasp. Alfred hooked his fingers into his panties, pulling them down by the seat. Reflexively, Kiku held his legs together, but Alfred yanked the panties lower, down to his knees.

Then he shoved Kiku down into a lawn chair that faced away from the house into the street. He didn’t miss Kiku’s wince as his backside pressed the seat of the chair. 

“You’ll stay here for a while,” said Alfred.

Kiku stared up at him, mouth pressed in a tight line, holding back a protest he knew better than to make. He shuffled his legs, which were trapped together by the rolled-down panties. He glanced around; out to the empty road, then back to Alfred. 

Sitting out in the open with panties around the knees wasn’t a terrible punishment... at least for someone more shameless than Kiku.

Sure, Kiku had been shameless today, but he had specific limits. Public indecency was one of them.

“Let me take them off,” Kiku dared to ask.

Unfortunately for Kiku, Alfred had limits as well. Being cuckolded in his own home was more than he could stand; more than he could allow. 

And when Kiku, his own wife, was the offender, he couldn’t allow him any comfort.

“This is too far,” said Kiku, a bit louder, made bolder by his indignation. “Someone will see.”

“Isn’t that what you want? Attention?” asked Alfred.

“Alfred, please,” said Kiku. 

“Tell me who it was, and I’ll let you pull them up,” said Alfred.

“It was no one,” said Kiku. 

But Alfred had learned that Kiku was a good liar, and told him outright he didn’t believe him for a minute.

In response, Kiku fixed his posture, sitting up straight, with his knees together and his chin held up.

Probably coming to terms with the fact that he would be seen. And if he was going to be seen in an indecent way, he would at least look like he had a decent purpose. Alfred’s eyebrows rose at the implication. Kiku was going to wait this out.

“Who was it?” asked Alfred again. 

“Are you showing me off, dear?” asked Kiku.

“Don’t joke around. You’re being punished.”

“ _Joking_ ,” said Kiku. “I thought this was intentional. 

“What are you talking about?” muttered Alfred.

“You’re trying to lure them,” said Kiku.

Of course, he was completely off the mark, and indignant heat seared Alfred’s chest. 

“Did you screw someone or not, Kiku?” he snapped.

“Maybe they’ll come,” said Kiku, completely ignoring him. “Maybe, if I do something like this?”

Demonstratively, he trailed his fingers along the edge of his skirt, then slid them back, over his lap. The hem edged up, pulling back to reveal the petticoat, which went with it, up to the edge of his stocking, right where the stocking ended at the top of his thigh, and then some. Alfred could see a tiny hint of bare leg— the left one— where Kiku hadn’t evenly drawn up the skirt. 

Kiku was watching him. Still seated pin-straight, head held up. But watching, with his legs uncovered; skirt held readily between his fingers. 

Honor-bound and filled with shame, until it was inconvenient for him.

“Kiku,” began Alfred, as a warning.

Without breaking eye contact, Kiku parted his knees, barely an inch. 

Worry balled in Alfred’s stomach like lead.

In one movement, Kiku raised his skirt completely, pulling it back to his waist and holding it there.

Alfred had seen between his legs before, more times than he could count, but this felt different. The dark hair bordering his genitals, the delicate skin of his hips, the stark redness glowing up the sides of his thighs; none of it was as familiar as it usually looked.

Kiku parted his legs more, as far as his dropped panties would allow. Which was far enough, when Kiku sat back, to expose everything anyone would ever want to see of him. 

Alfred tore his gaze away, to stare past the driveway and down the street, where all their neighbors’ houses stood, oddly quiet. 

Still not a car in sight, either parked along the curb, or driving down the road. The block was silent, save for the ticking of sprinklers on the lawn two houses down.

In the back of Alfred’s mind, a thought came to life, then all at once wound itself around his head.

It was Sunday morning. Everyone was at church, except them, because he’d been dealing with Kiku.

No one was going to see Kiku but himself. He hadn’t thought of that. 

Now…

Now that was what he had to come to terms with. But also— 

He dared a glance back at Kiku. 

His splay-legged wife regarded him serenely, now with his skirt between his teeth.

“It was out here,” said Kiku, muffled around the cotton stuffed in his mouth. “Just like this.”

The back of Alfred’s neck prickled.

“It couldn’t have been. You’re always so good,” he said, weak and volatile.

“That’s what he told me too,” said Kiku.

“Enough fooling around,” said Alfred. “Put your dress down and come inside.”

“You wanted to hear the truth. Maybe I can show you.”

“I get it, Kiku. You can stop.”

“You don’t believe me? Or you don’t want to? Or is it something else?”

Alfred’s throat was suddenly too dry to speak. So Kiku spoke for him.

“I know how you are. You brought me out here to show me off. Is it too much for you now?”

When Alfred still said nothing, Kiku stood. His skirt slid down to its proper position, the hem brushing his knees. His panties dropped to his ankles, and he stepped out of them.

Alfred found his voice again. 

“I didn’t say you could move.”

Kiku ignored him. With his heels tapping down the porch steps, he walked down to the driveway. He approached Alfred’s brand new cadillac, which sat shining and proud in the center. 

“Get back here,” Alfred demanded.

Kiku leant over the sun-warmed hood of the car. Regarded it for a moment, in the same, serene way he’d looked at Alfred. Then turned and hoisted himself back so he was seated on it. Alfred couldn’t see if he winced this time.  

“What do you think you’re doing?” asked Alfred. “I told you to come back.”

Kiku turned to face him, his bare clavicle stark white in the midday sun. 

_ I like when you beg, _ his expression said.  _ It makes me want to hurt you more. _

Then he lifted his legs up and let his pointed heels drop onto the hood, sharply enough that Alfred could hear the  _ bang _ of the powder blue metal being dented.

“Hey!” he heard himself exclaim, as he scrambled down the porch steps after Kiku. “What the hell!?”

He ran up to Kiku, and reached over the hood, trying to grab his ankles and drag him off. He caught him behind the knees, but when he pulled, Kiku went limp, splaying his legs, letting the heels scrape twin scratches down the hood. The abused metal shrieked until the thin, white trails ran the length of the hood and Kiku’s legs dangled over the grille, on either side of Alfred’s hips. 

Kiku looked him in the eye immediately after finishing, and didn’t even look smug about it. 

Alfred gaped at the damage. Though, if he thought about it, the reaction was more out of surprise than anger. Sexy, obedient Kiku, with his better-than-Sunday best up around his waist. Fucking up his fucking car. He was going to  _ fuck--  _

“What the fuck,” he said, choosing one ‘fuck’ from the storm that had taken over his mind momentarily. 

Kiku scooted forward and pushed his hips right up against Alfred’s, letting him feel how warm he was getting between his legs. He dug his little white fingers into the knot of Alfred’s tie, pulling it uncomfortably tight, and whispered against his mouth:

“Help me put more scratches on it, dear.”

Alfred wheezed out a laugh, giddy in disbelief. 

_ I can buff out the scratches. Hell, I can buy another damn car. A better one. A Bentley this time, and he can bust that one up too.  _

“ _ What  _ a drag,” he said, turning his face to the blue, blue sky. His spirit felt lighter than ever, ascending to a new plane as he counted his blessings; the two directly beneath him, and the ones he’d buy as soon as he’d finished with those.

Now, that was a reason to smile. He tilted his head back down and... 

“ _ What _ are the neighbors going to think, when they see me screwing you on top of my car?” 

“Exactly what you’d like them to think,” said Kiku. 


End file.
